


An English Gentleman

by Mars_McKie



Category: Richard Armitage - Fandom
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Romance, Snowball Fight, The Hobbit References, Waterstones, Winter in UK, Yes I know it's June!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_McKie/pseuds/Mars_McKie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's winter in the UK and you are working the late Christmas shifts in Waterstones (a book store). As you close up shop you find a straggler in the Tolkien section... and a brief encounter starts to turn into more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Book Endorphins](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3686460) by [MaryGraves13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaryGraves13/pseuds/MaryGraves13). 



As you finish serving the last customer in the queue you stifle a yawn and glance out of the front window of Waterstones. The sun had set at least two hours ago and the streetlamps that lit the street managed to catch the winter air in all of its stark coldness. You almost regret having to finish your shift in the nice, warm bookshop and consider making a nest in the Fantasy section and slumming until morning but the thought of a cooked meal at home and your own bed has its allure.

You look around the empty bookshop. There had been a gradual rise in people recently as Christmas was approaching and people were trying to buy presents, or else questioning you about what books were hot at the moment that their friends or family might like as presents for Christmas (as if you would know what they liked, but you did your best to help them nonetheless), as well as the usual people who came in just to smile at the books, stare at their favourites and wistfully muse about all of the books they would buy if only they had the money. You knew that feeling only too well and could hardly blame them. You had felt that exact same way up until a few months ago, but now you practically lived in a bookshop.

“Hey,” your colleague Harry calls over to you as he walks down the stairs from the first floor. “Listen, would you be able to lock up today? I’m meant to be meeting my girlfriend and taking her to the cinema tonight-”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” you assure him, putting the thoughts of home out of your mind for a while longer. Harry places the keys down on the counter and rushes off to the staff room to grab his things. You walk over to the shop doors and lock them to hopefully discourage any more late customers, though when Harry scuttles past you hurriedly zipping up this jacket you hear the click of a lock as he opens the door to sneak out of the front entrance. You make a mental note to lock it again before leaving.

You turn back into the shop and begin your final checks before you can leave. You cash up your register, turn off the escalator, do a quick search through all the sections to be satisfied that all are clear of customers and finish in the staff room where you log the security cameras for the night and pick up your coat, scarf, gloves and bag.

As you walk out of the staff room you allow your thoughts to return to home but as you cross the Sci Fi, Fantasy and Horror section you realise that there is still a customer there. He is standing with his back to you in front of the Tolkien shelf, his focus fully on the book in his hands.

You cast your mind back and can’t recall seeing someone there before -he is so tall that you surely would have noticed him- therefore believing that he must have entered through the door that Harry had left unlocked. You silently curse Harry and rock awkwardly on the spot, trying to decide how best to deal with the situation.

“’Cuse me,” you begin in your politest possible manner, feeling a pang of guilt for tearing him away from his book. “I’m afraid we’re clos-”

The rest of the sentence gets caught in your mouth as he turns around and you realise that the customer you are addressing is Richard Armitage.

You feel as though you should have realised who he was sooner but he is wearing a heavy cotton coat buttoned up against the cold outside and his dark hair is covered by a blue beanie hat, masking his features from behind. But now that you can see his face (at the moment with slight stubble around that smooth jaw-line) you feel your heart skip a beat in recognition.

“Oh, sorry,” he says in that rich, deep baritone voice of his. “I’ll be very quick…”

Richard indicates the book in his hand and looks at you in a sheepish way. You feel yourself nodding slowly and he goes back to reading the blurb of the book, just in time for him to not notice the way your face is suddenly burning red. You turn away from him quickly.

What was the etiquette for this? Should you stand next to him and make polite conversation without seeming like you were trying to chivvy him along? Should you go and stand behind the counter just in case he wanted to make a purchase? Should you even be allowing him to stay after the shop had technically closed? You feel as though you can’t face him while your face was still glowing red so you return to behind the till and do your best to compose your face back to a normal colour.

After a minute Richard finds his way to you with the book in his hand. You feel a slight disappointment that his hands are gloved as he passes you the book, but you scan the barcode and turn the book over to look at the cover.

“ _Farmer Giles of Ham_ ,” you smile. “An excellent choice!”

“Yeah, it’s one of the few that I’m missing from my Tolkien collection,” Richard admits.

“One of the few?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Well, when I was preparing to play Thorin in _The Hobbit_ films I read so many Tolkien books to get into character, and I’ve loved his writing since I was young, so I made it specially to buy it,” Richard explains in an almost apologetic way.

You are puzzled by this. “You came here specially?”

“I looked online and saw one was in stock here,” he rambles, pulling off his hat so you can finally see his black hair which he has grown slightly longer and is frizzy from the hat. “And I was just down the road so I drove here but there was all the rush hour traffic, and then I couldn’t find a place to park…”

He puts his hat on the counter and takes his money out of his pocket. This seems like a lot of trouble for him to go to just for this book.

“Would it not have been easier to buy it online?” you ask with a quizzical smile.

“Yes, but then I’d still have to wait for it to be delivered, and bookshops are such a wonderful place. I’d hate to see them shut down if all of their business was stolen online and knowing I could have prevented it if I’d brought this book here instead,” Richard reasons perfectly. You feel a shot of pride as what he had said was true- so much of the shop’s business had disappeared to online that to have this one person standing against it gives you so much hope in your job. That and you have to agree that bookshops are wonderful!

Your smile becomes more adoring and Richard gives a shy laugh and turns his head from you slightly before looking back into your eyes. His gorgeous blue eyes staring into yours. There is a moment between you both before it becomes too intense for you and you look down at the till.

“That will be £9.99 please,” you mutter. Richard seems to give himself a mental and physical jolt as he sorts through his money and hands you a ten pound note, murmuring for you to “keep the penny.”

Richard slips the book into his coat pocket. “Thank you, I’m sorry to have kept you-” he starts.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you say. “Take care.”

“Take care,” he repeats. “And have a good evening.”

“And you,” you finish. Richard exits out of the door that Harry had indeed left unlocked and disappears out onto the street. You breathe a faint sigh.

That had been a random end to your shift, although his comment about seeking out a bookshop over choosing the internet had made your day. You wonder now if perhaps you should have asked for an autograph (or perhaps a photo) but the chance had already passed.

You lock the front door that he had exited out of and perform a very quick sweep of the store in case Richard hadn’t been the only straggler, and you are happy the store is empty. You go back to the counter and collect your things but as you start to leave you notice that his blue beanie hat is still where he’d left it when he had put it down. You pick it up. He had only left a minute or so ago, perhaps it might be possible that you could catch up with him to return it…

You make for the staff entrance in the storeroom, turn off the lights and exit the building, letting the door swing shut and locked. Pulling your scarf and coat firmly around yourself, you set off down the little alleyway around the side of the shop and towards the high street. The town is nearly empty, although a few _youths_ are gathered by a fence not too far down who, when they see you, give an irritating cat-call.

Doing your best to ignore them you look from side to side, wondering which way Richard was most likely to have gone when turning to your right you see him rushing back towards the store. Sighing, you slowly walk towards him.

Richard looks in disappointment first at the locked doors, then through the window trying to see if his hat is still on the counter. When he cannot see it he gives a great sigh, his breath misting on the frozen air and his shoulders heaving, and takes a step back from the store.

“Hey,” you say when you are only a few steps away. Richard looks around in alarm but smiles when he recognises you.

“Hey,” he gasps. “I was wondering, you didn’t happen to see my hat, did you? It’s a blue beanie-”

You hold out the blue beanie to him. “This one?”

“That one!” he breaths in relief. He holds out his hand and takes the hat from you, his gloved hands brushing against yours again.

“I saw it on the counter, hoped you hadn’t got too far away,” you explain just in case he thought you had meant to steal it

“You’re amazing, thank you!” Richard pulls the hat on over his hair to cover his ears. “I got halfway to the car before my head realised it was too cold!”

“Yeah, it’s a very striking hat!” you nod absently.

“Thank you! I got it in New Zealand, it seemed a shame to lose it now,” Richard says.

“Cool.” You are aware you are nodding as much as the Churchill dog to what he is saying and try to make your head stand still on your shoulders. The catcalling from the youths has increased in intensity and though his gaze is fixed on you, you can tell the annoyance at them is growing in Richard’s face. You are getting rather annoyed at them yourself.

“Um, well, I’ve got to go now,” you start. Though you want to extend this encounter you are wanting more and more to get away from the youths.

“Oh, yes, are you off home now?” Richard stammers. You nod and you both say your farewells. However as you walk away from the store you find yourself walking right next to him. “Is it possible that we are walking in the same direction?” he laughs.

“I believe so,” you say.

Richard bows his head and grins in embarrassment? Awkwardness? Laughter? You can’t quite tell but that smile is quite infectious and feels good-natured enough.

“How are you getting home?” he asks you. “It’s quite late- is there someone meeting you?”

“Um, no. I’m getting the bus home,” you explain. Richard looks shocked.

“Whereabouts do you live?” he asks.

You point in the general direction. “It’s just out of town a bit. It’s kinda annoying though ‘cause the bus is never on time.”

“Do you want a lift?”

You stop in your tracks. “Excuse me?”

“Do you want a lift?” he repeats. “I feel I should do something for you after you went to the trouble of returning my hat…”

So often when you have been standing at the cold bus stop waiting for a bus that never sticks to the timetable you have wished for a knight in shining armour (or more accurately in a shining car!) to swoop in and courier you home, but you never truly expected it to happen. All of the warnings about never getting into cars with strangers flash up in your mind but right now you do feel ready to ignore them.

“Yes please,” you say, feeling slightly breathless. “Only if you’re not going out of your way to do it-”

“Not at all,” Richard smiles. Your knees buckle slightly but you fall in step next to him nonetheless.

He leads you to a nearby car park where only a few cars remain. The one he leads you to an expensive looking silver car which would look more at home on Top Gear than in this shabby car park! Richard sees the look of disbelief on your face.

“I’m borrowing it from a friend for a few days,” Richard explains. He strides a few steps in front and opens the passenger door for you. Your face flushes in embarrassment as you climb into the car. Inside it is just as luxurious as it appeared from the outside with the smell of new car mixed with muskiness.

As Richard busies himself in the boot you quickly grab your phone from your pocket and run off a text to Harry- _Getting a lift home with someone. If I’m not at work tomorrow check CCTV for prime suspect!_ You haven’t quite ruled out the possibility that this might be the most luxurious kidnapping known to man!

You hit send as Richard climbs into the driver’s side, starts the car and pulls out of the car park. As you pass through the town you are able to make small talk which turns into more confident conversation (with you occasionally giving directions). You are able to ask some questions that you had about The Hobbit movies which Richard politely answers, giving you frequent glances between keeping his eyes on the road. It seems all too soon that you are pulling up outside your house.

“Thank you so much,” you say for what seems like the thousandth time. Richard merely waves his hand in a dismissive way.

“No problem. Is this your final day working this week or-”

“No, I’ve got another late one tomorrow,” you sigh, feeling ever more tired at the thought. Richard pulls a sad face which is too adorable to look at and you feel reluctant to leave the car despite being so close to your bed.

“Never mind,” he says.

“Well, take care,” you say, finally bracing yourself to open the car door. The cold air outside hits you like a ton of bricks in your exposed face after the heat of the car. Before you can get out Richard stops you, putting his now ungloved hand on top of yours. What feels like a jolt of electricity jumps up your arm at his slightly rough touch.

“By the way, I never did ask- what’s your name?” he asks, seeming very embarrassed at asking this so late into the conversation.

“Oh, (Y/N),” you reply, leaning back into the car.

Richard shakes your hand, his own hand enveloping yours. “Hi, my name is Richard,” he adds (somewhat unnecessarily).

“A pleasure to meet you Richard,” you laugh, playing along to the formality. Richard smiles and -before you can register what is happening- he leans over to you and places a delicate kiss on your cheek.

“Take care, (Y/N)” he says.

“And you,” you say, getting out of the car. You don’t need to worry about the cold anymore as you can feel a fire spread across your face from the spot where his lips had brushed your cheek. You watch the silver car pull away down the road and as you turn to your door your phone beeps. It is a text from Harry-

            _Err, should I call the rozzers?_

You shake your head as you retrieve your keys from your bag. Better late than never, Harry!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You hadn't been expecting Richard to ever turn up at your Waterstones again, but that is just what happens!

The next day you are back at work again. The events of last night are now but a memory that you repeated over to yourself all day in your mind. Did Richard think you too rude for making him go out of his way? Had you embarrassed yourself in the car? You didn’t think you had; in fact compared to how you could sometimes be you had been perfectly normal. But this doesn’t stop you thinking from about what had happened, or about Richard.

You go through the day in a haze of serving customers but your eyes keep on going to the front door, half expecting that Richard is going to walk in. When you aren’t behind the till you find yourself wandering up to the Sci Fi, Fantasy and Horror section, imagining that you will find him standing there again staring at the Tolkien books, but he isn’t there. It feels unlikely that he would return but you are still hoping that you might get to meet him again.

As your shift ends and the last customer leaves, you give a great disappointed sigh. The much older manager of the store -Jasper- comes down the stairs to see you.

“Have you been OK (Y/N)?” he asks you. “It’s like you’ve been distracted all day.”

“Oh, n-no,” you stammer, though this is actually true. “It’s just… it’s just the end of the week so I’m feeling a bit tired.”

“You’re not working tomorrow, are you?” You shake your head. “Then go home and get some good rest,” Jasper says, not unkindly. Perhaps this is true- you had worked everyday that week. The thought of not having to set the alarm was a beautiful one, as was the thought of not having to rush- you could get stuff done at your own pace tomorrow.

You nod to Jasper who is still looking at you in a concerned way. “Do you need any help locking up?”

Jasper shakes his head. “You go, I can lock up.”

“Thank you,” you smile. You walk to the staff room and collect your coat, scarf, gloves, hat and bag, but you dawdle when putting them on. You are torn between stalling for time so you don’t have to leave or just going home and leaving the thoughts of Richard all behind you. After re-buttoning up the front of your coat (the first time you had tried you got half of the buttons in the wrong holes) you feel that you can’t justify staying around any longer.

Walking back into the shop you bid goodnight to Jasper and leave through the front doors. The temperature has dropped considerably since yesterday and thick clouds are gathering in the sky, reflecting the harsh light from the street lamps.

However, as you walk out onto the cold street you notice a dark figure leaning against the opposite wall. It is Richard.

You can’t quite believe it. You have been thinking about him all day and seeing him standing there now feels like an illusion, but he is there. He grins widely when he sees you and comes over to where you are stood transfixed. He is wearing the same thick woollen coat and cute blue beanie hat as yesterday and his hands are in his pockets as he approaches you. You beam back at him.

“Hello again,” Richard says.

“Hi!” you say, suddenly feeling breathless. “Fancy seeing you again!”

“Well, I’ve been back in the area today and I’ve finished all I need to do, so I was wondering if you might appreciate another lift home,” Richard explains, smiling all the while in a sheepish way.

You can’t help but stare at him. This really is too good to be true. You wonder in the back of your mind whether this might all be some elaborate prank for a TV show- if Holly Willoughby is about to jump out from behind a bin with a camera crew shouting “surprise surprise!” This doesn’t happen but you feel that you have to question his motives.

“I’d love that,” you say slowly. “But why?”

“Well…” Richard looks slightly taken back at this. You know that you’re being rather standoff-ish but you have to know why. “It’s just… you were such a help to me yesterday, and- I don’t know. We were getting on so well and I feel like I want to get to know you better.”

“Oh,” is all you can think to say. For a moment you both stare at each other- you can’t help but notice just how blue his eyes are, only a shade lighter than his hat and reflecting flicks of light from the street lamp behind you. Then you shift you gaze down to the pavement and Richard clears his throat.

“Sorry, shall we?” he says.

“Yes.” You fall into step next to him in silence and he leads you to the same car park as yesterday. You look around for his expensive-looking silver car but cannot see it anywhere.

“Where’s your car?” you ask.

He turns to look at you. “Well, the one I had yesterday was a borrow from a friend while mine was being serviced at the garage,” Richard explains. He seems almost embarrassed about it. “So this here is actually my girl at the moment.”

Richard gestures to the car which you realise he has been leading you towards. It is definitely smaller despite still being a two door, more like a city car, and bright red. You can’t help but smirk at it.

“Definitely more you,” you say.

“Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed racing around in the stupidly big race car, but this girl can be quite quick off the lights, although she does have a thing about the cold,” he says as he opens the passenger side door open for you. “Oh, and she’s rather messy inside.”

You climb in and see that he was right. Bits of paper, receipts and general mess litter the car and you have to move a couple of wires before you sit on them. Richard gets in the driver’s side.

“I’m really sorry about the mess,” he apologises again. “I pretty much live in this thing on the road; I meant to get them to put the hoover round it earlier-”

“No worries, my room can get much worse,” you admit. Richard starts the car and it gives a slight cough before starting. “That doesn’t sound too good.”

“No it was meant to stop doing that,” he murmurs. You note the concern in his voice, but as you pull out of the car park the conversation gets going again. You both make polite enquiries as to how the other’s day had been and you discover that his reason for being in the area was that he was visiting friends between shoots when his car had conked out and tonight he would be heading back home after dropping you off. In return he shows great interest in the events of your day, making enquiries into the happenings in a bookshop.

“I always find people watching so interesting,” he tells you. “It’s great when I’m trying to build a character to find someone who I imagine would be like them and see how they would walk and move-”

“Interesting,” you murmur. You can’t help but stare at him, and like last night you spot Richard stealing secret glances at you between looking at the road.

Once again all too soon you are pulling up outside your house. Richard turns the key in the exhaust, the engine falls silent and he turns to you, giving you his full attention.

“It’s been really special meeting you (Y/N),” he says in a low voice. A tingling runs down your spine at his words.

“It’s been really great to meet you too Richard,” you reply. You don’t know what to say except- “If you’re ever in the area again be sure to drop by Waterstones and say hi to me.”

“I will.” Richard smiles that winning smile again and you struggle to not trace the lines around the corner of his mouth and his chiselled chin with your eyes. It starts to feel too intense and you turn to the door handle.

“Well, might see you again then,” you say, pulling the handle.

“Indeed.” You can’t tell but Richard seems put out about you leaving so suddenly. Maybe you were being rude. You turn back to face him to say something but find that his face is incredibly close to yours! It seemed that he had gone to kiss your cheek again but your sudden movement had stopped him.

“Oh,” he stammers. You know he had meant to go for your cheek but now his lips are only millimetres away from yours. You really aren’t sure what to do! Would it be so wrong to go for a kiss? This close you can pick out all the shades of blue and grey in his eyes, feel his breath on your mouth and you are fully aware that he is looking back into your eyes, probably feeling your breath…

You are both frozen in this state for some time before you feel that you have to break the ice. “I just meant to say… thank you again for coming to pick me up,” is what comes out of your mouth, your voice sounding a bit too high pitched to be natural.

“It really was no problem,” Richard whispers back, maintaining the position for a second longer before finally brushing his lips on your cheek like he had originally intended. Your chest heaves, feeling like it might burst, and you are surprised to find that you are disappointed that it was only on your cheek, but the moment has passed and he has leaned back into the driving seat.

“Take care,” you say, and finally get out of the car.

This time you feel no fire to protect you from the cold and hurry to your front door, quickly going inside and shutting the door. You are almost close to tears but can’t quite work out why. It’s like your heart had just been laid out on a slab and stabbed with a knife and you don’t know why. You’d always had a crush on Richard Armitage but had you now just quite seriously fallen for him? The fact that he had always seemed so far away in the world of celebrity -almost another world to you- only to be brought so close into your life made it worse.

You mentally tell yourself that it’s over now anyway- he’s leaving, would probably start dating some woman on his next shoot which you’d read about in the paper and he’d never return to your Waterstones again. You really do feel that you could cry.

But just as you convince yourself that he’s left you hear a noise from outside- the sound of a key being turned and the engine straining but not starting. Opening the front door you realise Richard’s car has broken down. He tries once more before hitting his hands against the steering wheel in frustration.

You come out of the house in concern as he sees you and gets out of the car. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

“It’s doing it again, this was what the garage was meant to have fixed,” he explains, rooting in his pocket. “I’m going to have to call for help.”

You stand there as Richard is on the phone to the breakdown company, giving him your postcode when he asks. After a few minutes he hangs up. “They should be here in around an hour,” he reports.

You feel very sorry for him. “Would you want to wait inside?” you offer.

Richard bites his lip before nodding. “Come on,” you say, leading him back into your home.

You are more aware than usual of the mess in your own house, wandering what he would think about the slightly dusty pictures on the wall, the clothes waiting to go into the washing machine and the dirty dishes from breakfast that morning. Tomorrow had been the time in your mind to clean and you certainly hadn’t expected guests tonight. You lead Richard through to your kitchen.

“Can I get you a drink of anything?” you ask.

“Something hot would be good,” he nods, looking with interest around your kitchen. “It’s a really nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks,” you say, looking through your cupboards. “OK, I’ve got tea, coffee or special hot chocolate.”

Richard looks at you curiously. “What’s special hot chocolate?”

“Me buying caramel syrup from the supermarket on a whim and putting it in hot chocolate and finding that it tastes like the golden barrel from a Cadbury’s Roses tin,” you explain.

“OK that does sound good!” he laughs. “Let’s go with that then.”

“If you want you can drop your coat in the living room,” you tell him, which he goes to do and you busy yourself with making the hot chocolate, getting one for yourself at the same time and adding the syrup to both. You carry the mugs through to the living room where you find Richard staring at your Tolkien collection on your bookshelf. It is a rather good collection if you do say so yourself- you’ve got most of his books, _The Lord of the Rings_ and _The Hobbit_ DVDs, a number of action figures, some Lego figures and a few bits from Forbidden Planet.

“Great little collection you’ve got going here,” he remarks when he sees you.

“Little?” You pretend to be offended as some of those pieces you had saved up hard to buy. You hand him his mug (his ungloved fingers brushing against yours) and he takes a drink.

“This is really nice,” he says in surprise. “A bit sweet maybe, but still nice.”

“Sorry, I do like things a bit sweet,” you apologise.

“Just like you then,” he says. You take a swig of your own hot chocolate for something to do other than look at each other again and you nearly burn your mouth in your haste!

“Um, I was wondering,” you gasp, your eyes watering. You pick up _The Hobbit_ and pluck out a Thorin Oakenshield bookmark. “Would you mind signing this for me?”

You feel bad for asking but Richard just gives that radiating smile. “Have you got a pen?” You nod towards one on the coffee table. You both sit on the sofa and you notice in addition to taking off his coat and gloves Richard has also taken off his shoes and hat, laying them on a chair nearby. He is wearing a thick dark grey jumper, black jeans and white socks and without his hat his black hair is kind of floppy in being unstyled. The effect is casual but still very attractive. He signs his signature on the bookmark and hands it back to you.

Curling up on the sofa you both strike up conversation, the topics coming thick and easily and you are talking for a long time before Richard looks at the clock on your mantelpiece.

“It’s been well over an hour already,” he says in astonishment. You look at the clock too- it is indeed getting quite late. “What’s keeping them-?”

At that moment his phone rings and he answers it. Not wanting to look like you’re eavesdropping on his conversation you take your empty mugs back into the kitchen. After a minute you’re joined by Richard.

“Damn,” he mutters before addressing you. “The company say they’re getting so many calls tonight that they can’t make it until tomorrow now.”

“Ah,” is all you can say.

“I should probably ring for a taxi, find a hotel-” he starts but you cut across him

“Or you could stay here.”

Richard looks at you. “You mean-?”

“Set up a camp bed in the living room, I’ve got some spare covers and blankets and such,” you say quickly. You wonder if something different had crossed his mind, but you don’t want him to think that you’d jump into bed that easily, despite how cute he is.

He agrees to a camp bed, thanking you many times as you pull the cushions off of the sofa and chairs and onto the floor, covering them with a bottom sheet and plenty of blankets so that it looks quite cosy. You almost want to jump into the makeshift bed with him now, despite your earlier objection.

You bid each other “good night” and you go to your own bed. How you are able to sleep that night knowing Richard is only a room away from you you’re not sure, but the next morning you wake up, get dressed and stick your head through the living room door- Richard is sleeping peacefully, wrapped in the blankets with just a bare muscular arm and his head sticking out. Not wanting to seem like you’re watching him while he was sleeping you go through to the kitchen to put the kettle on, and when you look out the window you see something which you hadn’t expected-

Snow!

The garden was covered thick with the stuff, glittering white in the pale early morning sun that was now struggling to break through the clouds.

From hearing the kettle Richard has woken up and walks through to you in the kitchen. He has pulled his jumper on and his hair is all over the place.

“Good morning,” he yawns.

“Good morning,” you say. “Did you sleep OK? Were you warm enough in there?”

“Hmm? Yes, it was great, thank you,” he smiles sleepily.

“Tea? Crumpets?” you ask.

“Yes to both please.”

You pop some more crumpets in the toaster before turning to him. “I think I know why the breakdown van couldn’t get here last night.”

“Hmm?” he murmurs. You point out of the window. He looks and gives a soft “oh. Yeah, that would just about do it.”

You hear his phone ring in the living room and he goes to answer it. Smothering the crumpets in butter and pouring out the tea you bring a breakfast tray through to the living room just as he hangs up.

“They should be here within the hour,” Richard says, gratefully accepting the tray. “Though mind you, they said that last night as well, but they should be able to give me a lift back home”

You eat your breakfast before pulling on your boots, coat and gloves, Richard remembering to pull on his beanie hat and you do the same, and venturing outside into the snow. Your feet leave trails and the snow on the road is already starting to turn to slush from where cars have driven over it.

“It shouldn’t be too bad for a van to get through this,” he muses as he walks to his car. “I just wonder how close to home they might be able to drop me.”

Your heart sinks for him in his helplessness before you are gripped in a moment of madness- stooping low you scoop up a handful of snow and throw it at him, catching him between his jacket and hat where his neck is exposed. He gasps in shock as the snow finds its way down his back.

“You’ll pay for that!” Richard shouts, his eyes glinting mischievously. He scoops a handful of snow off of his car and throws it at you, but anticipating it you dodge but soon a full blown snowball fight has started between the two of you! Richard pulls a sneaky manoeuvre by hiding behind his car and hitting you square on the side of your head when you go looking for him. You retaliate by hitting him in the shoulder, to which he grabs you around the waist and pulls you down into the snow.

“Truce, truce!” you cry while laughing. “We’ll call it a draw!”

Richard lets go of your waist and throws himself back into the snow, spreading his arms and legs to make a snow angel. You stand up to admire his work.

“Beautiful,” you comment. _The snow angel’s not bad either!_ you think to yourself. A car horn sounds and looking around you see the breakdown van finally pulling around the corner.

The next ten minutes is the two men fixing up the car on the back, speaking to Richard about insurance and complaining about how many breakdowns they’ve attended to in the night while the snow was falling. Eventually the car is lifted by the tow arm and they are ready to go.

“Thank you again for coming to my rescue,” Richard says to you.

“It was no problem, I’m glad I could help,” you say. The moment of leaving can’t be stalled any longer and Richard pulls you into a gentle hug, again kissing your cheek which you feel confident enough to return, your own lips brushing his soft, cold cheek. The hug breaks and he smiles at you before making his way into the front seat of the van.

“Until we meet again (Y/N),” he calls to you, waving goodbye. The two men get in on either side (Richard did look rather squeezed in the middle!), the van starts up and pulls away down the road. You wave at them as they turn the corner and give a great sigh, sad for the fun to have ended but now thoughts of a warm bath are filling your head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's June, it's scorching outside and I'm writing about snow! I also had Christmas songs going round in my head the other day! Not good!  
> But yes, continued fluff but the next chapter might be a few more days as I'm working on something special for Father's Day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Eve and Richard returns to Waterstones to take you out for lunch, but all the time it's like there is something on his mind...

This time when Richard leaves you, you don’t feel the same unrest in your mind that you had felt before. Sure, your thoughts often wander to him and the events that had unfolded over those three days, but you don’t find yourself obsessing if you’d done the right thing or else pining over him not returning. You just continue happily with your life.

In this way several days pass and the childish joy that came with fresh snow turns into horrible, wet slush which in turn turns peoples’ moods sour, though still when you think back to your fight in the snow you laugh, causing those people to regard you with odd looks. Despite this you have done your best to preserve the snow in front of your house where Richard had made his beautiful snow angel. You look at it whenever you come back and forth and it always makes you smile anew.

It is now Christmas Eve- the busiest day in any shop’s calendar and Waterstones is no exception, being absolutely rammed with people buying last minute presents (again come the awkward customers who ask you what their loved ones might like, but you have learned to guide those people towards a gift card. In your opinion you can never go wrong with a Waterstones gift card!).

You’ve had a hectic morning on the counter with non-stop customers pouring through and you had to switch positions for a moment just to reclaim some sanity. You are now in the storeroom gathering books onto a trolley to do a restock so that the shelves don’t look so empty.

As your mind enters into a calmer place away from the rabble in the shop, one of the Christmas Temps sticks his head around the door.

“Uh, (Y/N),” he says.

“Yeah… um, sorry, I can’t remember your name!” There have been a number of new Temps brought in to deal with the Christmas season (most of them English Lit students from the local university) and it is difficult to remember all of their names.

“Kenny,” he said. “There’s, uh, someone at the front desk asking for you.”

Poor Kenny didn’t seem like the brightest star in the sky at the best of times. Getting up, you walk past him back into the shop and make your way to the front desk. You can spot the man a mile off due to the now all-too-familiar blue beanie hat! Standing there, much to your great surprise, is Richard.

“Hello!” you smile widely and you can feel your face light up at the sight of him, once again looking so handsome and rugged in his thick coat.

“Hello!” Richard replies, also smiling at the sight of you. You notice his cheeks are flushed red but you assume it’s from the cold wind outside.

“You’re back again, I see! You can't stay away, can you?” you say. He laughs awkwardly.

“Yes… I’m back,” he says. He seems to be struggling to find what to say.

“Did you manage to get your car sorted?” you ask.

“Oh, yes- well, no actually,” he replies. “In the end the amount it would have cost to get it fixed was so much I just ended up getting a new car. A little early Christmas present to myself, as such.”

“Nice!” you remark. Glancing past him you notice the queue of customers waiting there, giving not-so-subtle glares in your direction, and obviously wanting you to hurry up to serve them. Today was clearly not a day on which to remain calm. You make a decision in the heat of the moment. “Would you want to get a drink?”

Richard looks glad for the suggestion. “Yes, that would be great.”

“Kenny, I’m taking my lunch break,” you announce to the Temp. You see the fear of being left alone in his eyes and add “if you need any help then Jasper is upstairs.”

Kenny nods and you excuse yourself from Richard to run and get your coat and bag. Returning, you find him waiting for you.

“Shall we?” he asks. You nod and together you step out of the shop. The cold wind slaps you in the face. Why on earth so many people are braving this weather to shop is a mystery to you, especially with dark clouds looming overhead. You wonder if there might be more snow on the way (and if you’re able to have another snowball fight that might not be so bad!) Richard turns to you.

“Where’s best around here?” he asks.

“What do you fancy?”

Richard bites his lip as he looks around. “Is there perhaps somewhere quieter we could go?”

You look around too. Though most people have their heads bent low against the cold or else are set on their next destination, one or two people have already spotted Richard Armitage standing there and are pulling up short, not to mention a couple more sittting in the window of the nearby Starbucks gawping at him. You realise that when he had visited you those two times before it had always been as the shops had closed so the streets were devoid of people. You cast your mind around for somewhere more private.

“There’s a little tea place just down the road,” you say. You’ve never actually been in there but the times that you’ve walked past it the place seems far quieter than the conventional high street coffee shops.

“Lead on,” Richard nods.

You both walk down the street, close enough to be together but his hands are in his pockets so any hand-holding is out of the question and slipping your hand through the crook of his arm seems inappropriate. Not to mention one or two gazes are still following you down the street. What would happen if one of them was to take a photo and it went viral about you supposedly dating Richard Armitage? No doubt his fans would have something to say about it, not to mention your family!

You lead him down a side street to a small olde-English-style tea room which you have never been in before but seems very quaint as you go up some stairs to an upstairs room. A counter displays the desserts on offer and little tables are dotted around.

Richard makes for a table in the corner of the room, slightly sheltered from view by a Christmas tree. It feels very intimate!

A waiter brings menus and takes your orders before leaving the two of you alone.

“So what brings you back to this part of the world?” you ask. “Are you visiting your friends again?”

“Oh, no, actually. This was a bit of a detour. I’m heading home to spend Christmas day with the family after this,” Richard explains. He has taken his coat and hat off and runs a hand through his silky black hair, his face pointed down and looking up at you coyly through those black eyebrows. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m spending the Christmas with some friends,” you say. “With work I don’t have time to get home and there’s a few of us in that same boat so we’re having one big Christmas together. But I’ll see the family at New Year instead.”

“Oh right,” Richard says. You can’t truly tell but he seems nervous.

“So why are you down this way then?” you repeat, aware that he never answered this question.

“Well,” he turns to his coat that is hanging on the back of his chair. “I came back to give you- this.”

From his coat pocket he takes a neatly wrapped present and holds it out to you. The yellow ribbon on top of the red Christmas-y wrapping paper looks very festive (if slightly messy!) and a gift tag hangs from it saying “To (Y/N), love Richard”. You also notice that it is book shaped.

 _Love Richard_.

“What- is this?” you laugh, accepting the present.

“It’s a Christmas present,” Richard points out the obvious to you, though it doesn’t add up in your head. Had he really come here today just to give you a Christmas present?

_Love Richard._

Not wanting to seem impolite you say “I didn’t think to get you anything, I’m sorry…”

“No, you don’t have to get me anything,” he says, holding up his hands in innocence. “I hope you like it…”

“Am I allowed to open it now?” You feel cheeky asking this, knowing that you should wait until tomorrow, but Richard shakes his head.

“No, you can open it now. I want to see if you like it or not,” he says.

You neatly pluck off the ribbon (slipping it along with the gift tag into your bag), open the wrapping from one end and pull out (as you had expected) a book - _The Father Christmas Letters_ by J.R.R. Tolkien.

You are silent for a moment looking at it, so Richard adds in a nervous voice “I noticed it was missing from the Tolkien collection on your bookshelf… and it seemed appropriate, it being Christmas and all…”

“I love it,” you say in a hushed voice. It was such a thoughtful present. Richard gives a smile of relief and you hold the book to your face and conceal a small “squeeee! Thank youuu!” of excitement! Looking over the top of the book Richard is still smiling at you in relief, his eyes reflecting the joy you feel in your own…

At that moment the waiter brings your food and you fall back into comfortable and familiar conversation as you both eat. When you finish you order dessert (the cakes on display look too delicious not to!) and Richard joins you in doing so. After five more minutes a woman and a shy girl who looks like her daughter approach your table and ask for Richard’s autograph and photo. He politely does so, though you lean out of the way of the shot. You then offer to the woman for you to hold the phone so you can take a picture of all three of them which she appreciates.

You are almost surprised by how sincere he is through all of this, and his smile comes across as very warm in the photo (compared to when you looked at celebrities in magazines and their smiles all looked put on for the camera). The two ladies certainly look very flushed as they accept the phone back and return giggling to their own table a small distance away. You hope it hadn’t been too weird, you being there. You look at Richard and he gives you a reassuring smile.

“I’m used to it, and I’ve certainly experienced fans that are more… enthusiastic,” he tells you with a small shrug.

When the waiter then brings the bill a small argument flares up between the pair of you.

“I’ve got this,” Richard says, reaching for his wallet.

“What? I can pay for mine,” you say, not wanting to sound like you’re scrounging off him.

“No, this is my treat,” he tries to take the money from his wallet but you place your hand on top of his.

“You’ve already treated me enough- in fact, let this be my treat to you, then I don’t have to feel guilty about not getting you a Christmas present!” you argue, pushing his money away and pulling out your own.

Both Richard and the waiter have bemused looks on their faces as you hand over the money, pull your coat on and pick up your bag and present to go back to work.

“Well…” Richard struggles to find the words as he escorts you back down the stairs from the café. “Thank you for a lovely meal!”

“No problem!” you reply.

But you draw up short as you are about to step out onto the street as the heavens have opened and a horrible heavy sleet is now falling from the sky. The noise is tremendous as the cold water hits the pavement, also transforming the side street into a river. You would be drenched through in seconds if you were to go out there.

“Woah,” Richard commented as he looked out. “A bleak mid-winter indeed.”

“Yeah.” You look up at the sky and see that already the sun is starting to break through in places, oddly lighting up the downpour. “There’s no chance I’m walking back in this.”

“It looks like it should be easing off soon,” Richard looked into the distance then down at you. “We’ll just have to wait here until then.”

An odd flutter flies through your chest. Standing here in this doorway is very cosy, and the rain has driven all shoppers off the street so unless anybody follows you down the stairs you are very much alone. You are aware of how close Richard is to you- so close that you can smell the muskiness of his coat.

_Love Richard._

“Umm… I’ve never actually been here before, I’ll definitely have to come back here again,” you say to fill the empty silence. You have become especially aware of how he is looking directly into your eyes, piercing right through you with his bright blue eyes.

“I’d love to,” he says in a hushed tone. “But I’m off filming in America in the New Year-”

“You’re leaving?” you exclaim. Why this is such a surprise to you, you don’t know, but it is like the knife you’d felt before when you’d been standing alone in your house (before his car had broken down) has been twisted in your heart.

“Only for a couple of weeks,” he assures you in a calming voice. “It’s not a big project, though I still have a fair bit of preparation to do for it before I leave.”

“Oh,” you whisper softly.

That silence drifts back in and the atmosphere between the two of you is like it’s charged with electricity, or else the Earth’s gravitational pull has shifted so that you’re being pulled together…

Richard breaks first, closing his eyes then turning to look back outside. “It looks like it is safe to go out now.”

You turn to look and sure enough the rain has thinned to the last few drops that the clouds have to offer.

“Probably best to make a run for it,” you say. There again in Richard’s eyes is that mischievous glint as he grabs your hand and pulls you out into the thinning rain.

It seems so surreal, running through the streets, droplets of rain still falling on your head, Richard leading you both through the puddles so that you’re creating large splashes and laughing your heads off doing so. And everyone is still stuck in the shops so there’s no one around to observe you.

You arrive back at the staff door to Waterstones in the little alleyway laughing and breathing heavily.

“Ha- ha, when I said run for it, I didn’t mean literally!” you giggle as you notice a cold sensation running through your foot. “I’ve got a hole in my shoe!”

“So have I! What a time to discover that!” Richard replies, trying to move his feet away from the deep puddles.

You laugh again, leaning against the brick wall.

“(Y/N), there’s been something I’ve been wanting to ask you,” Richard says, looking at you in full earnest.

“What is it?” you ask.

“May I kiss you?”

Your heart seems to stop. You’re sure you heard him right, but you daren’t believe it. What should you do?

You nod.

Richard puts one gloved hand on your damp cheek and brings his lips down to meet yours and all of the clichés concerning kissing that you’ve read about in books come true. You forget where you are as you kiss back, closing your eyes and him exerting just enough pressure for you to open your lips to prolong this kiss. One of your hands finds its way around his waist while the other clutches his jacket over the spot where you can feel his heart beating through it. In return, the hand on your cheek moves behind your neck and the other arm around your waist, pulling you in.

It’s like your bodies had been moulded for each other, and you stay this way in some bliss for some time, your lips merging as one until finally you pull back slightly. Richard is looking down into your eyes and you see the bliss that you’d felt reflected there.

He sighs and you feel his breath on your mouth. “I…” he starts, but doesn’t seem to know how to go on.

Your arms fall back down to your sides. “I should get back to work,” you whisper. He nods and you turn away, punching in the code for the door and walking back into the building. You don’t want to go. You want him to stop you, to reach out and grab your hand but he doesn’t, and the door slams shut behind you.

You raise a hand to your lips. So much confusion is now surging through your mind- his simple question his lips had asked which with your own you had given him an answer to…

_Love Richard._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New Year arrives and with Richard still away you feel the need to talk to somebody. You return to Waterstones in the hope that you can explain your feelings to yourself as well as to him.

It is impossible this time for you to brush what had happened under the carpet and carry on with life. You had spent Christmas Day with everyone but you weren’t mentally there. Going home to your family had helped to distract your mind for a while but now that you are back in your own house the loneliness and doubt creeps in. Not to mention a terrible cold from running out in the rain!

_Love Richard_. Those are the words that stare at you from the book shelf where you had hung the tag from (along with adding _The Father Christmas Letters_ to your collection after reading it cover to cover. It really was a beautiful little book) as you sit on the sofa and replay those events over and over again in your head.

The way that Richard had asked to kiss you had been so gentlemanly of him, and the fact that he had returned of his own free will several times after your initial meeting had to imply that he cares about you even a little bit.

Unable to move from this spot, you lie on the sofa with a warm mug of hot chocolate, tissues to hold back the tears and blankets and reflect. You hate yourself for this clichéd melancholy that you have fallen into, yet you are unable to get out of it on your own. Though you are conscious of the fact that you must move soon or else the bills will start to stack up.

It is for this reason -and the fact that you simply need to talk to someone- that two weeks after Christmas when your cold finally clears up you find yourself treading the all too familiar walk to Waterstones.

You can’t help but be nervous. Your brain reminds you that this early into the new year Richard will still be on the film shoot in America but a part of you expects to see him standing there, waiting at the counter with a book in hand and the blue beanie on his head. He isn’t and you feel depressed again. It takes a lot of mental energy not to turn out of the shop but to carry on in, looking for the person you had wanted to talk to. You eventually find him at an upstairs till.

“Hi Harry,” you say when he finishes serving a customer.

“Hey!” Harry looks both surprised and delighted to see you. “Not seen you in a while, how’s it going?”

“Oh, you know,” you try to keep your tone airy but your voice catches in your throat. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I’ve got a break now; would you want to get a coffee and chat?” Harry says. You nod and he goes and grabs his coat. As you both leave the shop and mass of blonde curls dives into Harry’s arms and kisses him on the cheek.

“Deedee!” he exclaims in delight.

“Harry, are you on your break now?” Harry’s girlfriend Dee pouts at him slightly as she surveys him with puppy-dog eyes.

“Yeah, we’re going to get coffee,” Harry indicates you and Dee finally spots you standing there. “(Y/N) just wants someone to talk to-”

“Is it boy trouble?” Dee fixes you in her knowing gaze and you nod uncertainly. She gives a small “squeeee!” of excitement before taking your wrist in a vice-like grip and dragging you towards the nearest coffee shop across the street. She sets Harry up with the task of getting the drinks and pulls you into a private corner by the window.

“So what’s been going on?” Dee stares intently at you. “Is there some boy giving you trouble? Do you need anybody beaten up?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” you say, laughing slightly besides yourself at Dee’s eagerness.

“It would be no trouble; I’d get Harry to beat them up!”

“Thanks, but no,” you say, not quite believing that Harry could be capable of beating up anybody. You sigh as you try to put your emotions into words. “I… met someone… before Christmas. And we only saw each other a few times but each time was so special- you know…”

Dee smiled dreamily. “Yeah,” she sighed.

“And… he kissed me one time and gave me a gift that says Love… from him,” you were about to say his name but trail off. Would Dee really believe you if you told her the person in question was Richard Armitage? Probably not, and even if you did tell her who it was you don’t think you could stand her dismissing your feelings as a fangirl crush. “But it just feels like he is in a whole other world to me that I know nothing about and don’t belong in.”

As you admit your fears you feel tears well up into your eyes and you bite your lip, determined not to start crying. “It’s the thing of- because I don’t belong in that world I don’t know if his feelings are real or not.”

You look at Dee who stares silently out of the window for a moment.

“I don’t know if it’s a class thing and I don’t like to pry,” she says finally. “But it sounds to me what you need most is to talk openly to him about it, and where he sees your relationship going.”

“That’s part of the problem- I don’t even know where he is right now. It was always him who found me.”

“He isn’t stalking you, is he?”

“No! He’s been a complete gentleman the whole time we’ve been together.”

As Dee opens her mouth to reply, Harry arrives with the drinks. “Here we are,” he says, handing you a mug. “I didn’t know if you wanted sugar or not-”

“Well, I really shouldn’t, I’m on a diet” Dee pouts.

“I’ll get it.”

“No it’s fine, I’ll go.”

Dee get up and goes to the counter and Harry takes her seat. “So, what’s up with you and Richard Armitage?”

Your mouth drops open at how blasé he is about it. Not to mention you had never discussed Richard with him before. “How did you know it was him?”

“I did as you said and checked the CCTV,” Harry shrugs, tipping milk into his coffee. “That and that stupid temp Kenny was shouting about him being the one on the till when he came into the shop. Insane or what? Why did you not say so sooner? You could of at least got his autograph for me, you know I love the _Hobbit_ films! I’m guessing he’s the guy you’re so caught up on?”

You nod and your throat catches again as you remember what Dee had said before. “I just want to talk to him and find out what’s going on.”

“Please tell me he’s not the reason you’ve missed so much work?”

“No, I really have had a cold.” You don’t feel bad about saying this as it is mostly true.

“Is it serious between you two?” Harry continues. “How many times did you see each other?”

You count in your head. “At least three separate occasions.”

“Three dates?” Harry’s eyes go wide. “Please tell me he kissed you on the third date?” You nod uncertainly, once again wondering how he knew and Harry punches the air. “Yes! That’s so _Vicar of Dibley_ of him!”

“Now you’re the one acting like a fangirl!” you grin, quickly faltering. “But it did seem like it was getting serious-”

“Little hint- if he introduces you to a strange but attractive woman it’s actually his sister and she’s helping him decide whether or not to propose to you!”

“Very funny,” you mutter darkly. You can’t help but feel that Harry isn’t taking this seriously at all.

“But you say you want to talk to him?”

“Yes.”

“I might be able to help you there.” A twinkle appears in Harry’s eyes as he flicks through a notepad he keeps on him, tears out a page and offers it to you. You stare at the piece of paper- a mobile number is written on it.

“What is this?”

“He phoned the store soon after Christmas and left a number with me for you so you could call him back,” Harry explains. “And yes, that number is already saved into my phone for personal purposes!”

You take the piece of paper not quite daring to believe it. Dee returns with her sugar and the conversation moves on.

“Please come back to work soon,” Harry says. “The temps have been driving Jasper up the wall, I’m sure he’d love to see your face soon!”

“I’ll email him,” you promise. Afterwards, Harry returns to Waterstones and Dee wanders off after making sure one final time that you are going to be OK. You drift through town, the mobile number clenched in your hand in your pocket until you find a quiet seat to sit down. You take out your mobile but it takes a lot of effort to punch in the numbers- deleting them and re-entering them several times as you try to plan out in your head what to say if he answers. Eventually the number is entered and your finger hovers over the green icon, your heart pounding, trying to work up the nerve to hit the button.

You bite your lip, steel yourself and press the green icon. Putting the phone to your ear you can hear the dial tone and worry that maybe this was just a prank by Harry, that this wasn’t Richard’s number at all and you’ll get through to the local Chinese takeaway, until finally after what feels like a lifetime listening to your beating heart the call is answered.

“Hello?” You catch your breath and every single worry that you’d had flies out of your head in this instant as you hear his voice again.

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately Richard hadn’t been able to talk on the phone for very long as he had only just got back from America and was meeting with his agent, but he had been very glad to hear from you and suggested the two of you meet up to “talk” soon. This is how a week after the phone call you find yourself in London, frequently checking a map to a quiet members-only restaurant in the centre of the West End.

You have to be buzzed in by a doorman who then checks your name against a list before leading you upstairs past the restaurant where other people are busy having their lunch and up to a private room.

The room is like being in a personal library; books on shelves lining the walls and natural light pouring in through the window in front of which stand two high-back comfy chairs with a table set ready for two just between them. The books help to calm your nerves as it almost feels like being back in Waterstones.

You are waiting for about ten minutes before there are footsteps on the wooden floorboards outside and the door opens. There stands Richard- still in his winter coat, blue hat in hand and slightly out of breath but he smiles widely when he sees you.

“Hey!” he breaths.

“Hey!” you beam back.

You had worried things might seem awkward between the two of you, but Richard wasted no time in walking up to you and kissing your cheek. His skin is cool against your warm face from being outside yet quite pleasant, his bristly beard tickling your cheek.

“You’re looking good,” he says, taking a step back. You’re not sure you feel good but you take the compliment anyway.

“Thanks. You look fantastic. You’ve cut your hair!” You exclaim when he takes his hat off. Where before his hair had been longer and floppy now it is dangerously short and makes him look that much older.

“Yeah, it was required for the shoot,” Richard runs an absent hand through his stubbly hair.

“How did it go?”

“Intense, it was an intense shoot, but it was good at the same time, well worth doing,” he nods. The waiter enters bearing a tray set with tea for two which he places on the table before leaving. You both sit in the chairs as Richard pours out.

“How have things been at work for you?” he asks politely as he adds milk.

“Well, I wasn’t there for about two weeks after Christmas-”

“Nothing wrong I hope?” Richard looks up quickly from the tea at you.

“Oh, no, I just had a cold was all.”

Richard laughs. “You too? I had a cold for about a week on set after running in the rain!”

You laugh for a moment but it fades quickly. Already you are on the topic of your last meeting. His expression becomes serious too.

“I just wanted to say… about what happened the last time we met up,” Richard says hesitantly. “I worry that I might have been too forward in asking to kiss you, so… I’m sorry.”

“What? You don’t have to apologise,” you reply, feeling slightly shocked that he should feel the need to say sorry. “It was… nice, it was… very pleasant”

You blush in admitting this to him but he seems encouraged by this.

“I’m glad,” he sighs with relief. “But… when you left straight after we kissed, I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know if I’d offended you or-”

“No, no, not at all,” you assure him. “It’s just the thing of… we’re such different people. You’re you. You’re Richard Armitage-”

“And you’re (Y/N), what of it?” Richard retorted.

“But… you’re a celebrity, and I’m…” you stammer to reply, trying to explain it to yourself as much as to him. “It’s not that you’re intimidating or anything, but I didn’t know-”

“If I do actually care about you or not?” he finishes sadly for you. You bite your lip and nod. Again it feels like the knife has been twisted in your heart.

Richard takes a breath and places his hand on top of yours in your lap. “Listen- from the first time when we met and you returned my hat I’ve been in awe of you. You’re sweet, kind, mad as a hatter sometimes, and, when I kissed you that day I had to try. I had to put my heart out on the line because I really do love you. And I had to know if you feel the same way.”

You are stunned into silence and your eyes drop from his for a long time. You think back over how you had felt in the weeks that had passed since your last meeting, of how you had shamefully pined for him, then of the times that you had met Richard before. The fun you’d had together in those moments of madness, how easy it had been talking to one another in his car and on your sofa and you realise that you do feel the same.

You twist your hand so that it is grasping his. “I love you too,” you whisper, tears starting to catch in your eyes. “And I do want to give things a go between us.”

Richard’s other hand cups the side of your face and lifts it up so that you are looking him straight in the eyes. They are bright and beaming with hope and you smile in return, the tears finally spilling out of the edge of your eyes. He brushes them lightly away with his fingers, each stroke bringing your cheek into the palm of his hands.

“There’s no need to cry,” he says kindly. “We can do this.”

“Shut up, I’m crying because I’m happy!” you snap lightly and Richard laughs

As you look at him it seems that he is silently asking you a question, but this time he doesn’t have to voice it. His eyes ask the question which your lips gladly answer. Your lips press against his and he kisses you back, all doubt finally melting away and you feel certain that no matter what may come your way you can overcome it together with Richard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the final chapter! I apologise for it taking so long, I got caught up with other work!  
> If I do extend this story at all it would most likely be as one-shot stories, but I'll have to wait and see! I want to get a number of other stories I've started finished as well.  
> I hope you like it and have enjoyed reading the series!  
> Marcella x

**Author's Note:**

> There are four planned chapters in this work and I hope you enjoyed reading this one! The setting it in a book shop was inspired in part by MaryGraves13's story Book Endorphins.  
> As ever feedback is appreciated!  
> Marcella McKenzie x


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